A Harkness Carol
by GhostlyBob
Summary: Or 'What happens when you watch A Christmas Carol too much.' Set Post COE, a hurt/comfort tale of one man who is haunted by the past, present and future to remember the truth about Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

**After almost six months with my poorly computer, it has now been fixed and that means I can try and get back to writing. For those of you who read/have read my story 'Under Your Skin', more will be coming, I promise I haven't forgotten. But for now, here is a little Christmas story inspired by my LOVE of the good old original A Christmas Carol. Be warned, it is set after COE and does not show Jack in an altogether good situation.**

**Oh and for the copyright bit, I don't own any of these characters (from Torchwood or A Christmas Carol) They each belong to their creators and I only hope that one day I will be able to write great characters like these myself.**

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Jack Harkness was dead; to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that...or at least that was the case until the Captain gasped with a horrific sound as he forced oxygen down into his lungs. To Jack Harkness, this process of coming back to life was no longer a surprise to him, it had happened ever since that fateful day on a satellite station way in the future, or was it the past now? He had lost nearly all consciousness of time, all except the actually day itself, for this day was Christmas Eve. A day where families and friends came together to celebrate some kind of festival that was integral to the human race. If he were quite honest with himself, Jack never did care for this time of year that forced him to remember his past, his drawn out past that wrapped itself like a chain around his waist, weighing him down with trouble and woe. At this time of the rolling year, he suffered most and not even the ten hyper-vodkas that had led to his recent death could numb the pain.

Shaking off the ripples of pain that echoed through his body, he adjusted himself and took in his surroundings. Thankfully, he must have found his way back to his quarters, the screen facing out to into the Universe crudely obscured by a matted old blanket. He checked his pockets and breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers wrapped around the credits still left there, untouched by thieves or himself from the previous night. Sitting up from the makeshift bed in the corner of the room, he brushed off his coat aggressively, taking care only when he spotted a loose button he knew he needed to fix. Heaven or Hell could take anything else left of Captain Jack Harkness, but the coat would always stay atop his shoulders. Running his fingers through his hair, without even turning to appraise himself in the small mirror attached to the wall, he unlocked the door and stepped out onto the cold platform of Level 26. He was alone on this floor, for no man, woman, child or multiform would ever step onto this floor, without first bundling themselves up in all the attire they owned for Level 26 was home to the ship's air conditioning. All day and night, the temperature barely got above freezing as the air created blew down to cool the poor inhabitants of The SS Salvation.

Jack remembered when he first boarded the ship, after being kicked off the cruiser he had used to escape the Earth after the blackest period of time in all his memory. It was shortly after he had seen the Doctor, his regeneration coming to a close Jack suspected at the time, when he had been introduced to Alonzo in the cruiser's drinking hole. The night had started well, after a few drinks they had gone back to his quarters, but a single word Alonzo uttered made Jack lose all sense of control. He found himself lashing out, hitting and beating the poor lad to within an inch of his life, all because of a single word. A word he never wanted to hear again and it was because of that one word he was arrested and thrown unceremoniously from the cruiser onto the docking station at Valdimus 5 in the Axtion Galaxy. If it had not been for the Captain of the SS Salvation finding him and taking him onto his ship, Jack may well have rotted away on that docking station. But instead, he was here, rotting away on this charitable ship that took care of the vulnerable and homeless of the Universe.

But Jack didn't care about any of that, all he cared about was getting down to the bar on Level 18 without hearing the words 'Merry Christmas' directed at him. If only he knew how easy that would be, for the rest of the inhabitants on the ship feared the immortal Captain. Although they knew nothing about his inability to die or even who he was, the empty void in his soul was open for all to see and to fear. Women would bow their heads away from him; even men would feel an icy finger run down their spine as Jack walked past them. He was a nobody, a stranger, a person to avoid and that was the way Jack wanted it.

'Merry Christmas,' a small voice finally spoke as he turned a corner on Level 20. He looked down upon a small rosy cheeked girl, her brown hair swept away from her face and clutching an old and worn teddy bear between her tiny fingers. Her mouth hung open as she locked eyes upon the stranger but, unlike the other children on the ship, she did not flee in terror, nor did she cry out at the sight of the soulless man in front of her. Instead, she simply closed her mouth after a while and smiled up at Jack, her lips parting slightly to reveal a gap between her front two teeth, just like someone Jack used to know and perhaps that is why he didn't shun her little wishing of a merry Christmas.

'Agatha.' The silence between man and child was rudely broken by the howling of a young woman who rushed towards them, bundling the child up into her arms. 'My Goddess, what do you think you're doing.' Her eyes caught Jack and at that moment, she stepped backwards, clutching the child closer to her, before fleeing down the passageway and away from Jack. All he did was stare, stare and wait until he could no longer see them before he turned in the opposite direction and all but ran down the stairs until he reached Level 18 and his location; The Dickens Inn- named, should we say kind reader, after the founder of the ship, not the famous writer of the 20th century. Although, with the events that were to occur on this festive night, perhaps the connection should be with the latter.

Finding the stool he frequented almost every day, he slumped his tired body onto the seat and waited for the inevitable, the small whispers from the bar staff as to who was to serve him. He didn't understand why they would have such a problem; he asked for nothing but drinks, caused no problems for the staff and always paid his way. Jack didn't need to look up from his hands to know that the staff present were already looking upon him.

'Belle.' The plump manager called over to the young woman on the other side of the bar and as she finished cleaning a booth in the corner, she smoother down her apron and quickly walked to his side. 'That guy is in again, not even twenty four hours since his last visit. If you don't mind, I don't think I can really handle him at the moment. This job drains everything out of me as it is, I don't want what little Christmas joy I have in me to get drained out by him as well. Go and see what he wants.' Belle simply turned and looked at the poor man who sat alone at the end of the bar. She saw how people flinched and turned away from him whenever they saw him. It made her stomach turn that people could easily turn their backs on a man who was quite evidently sad and alone, especially at this time of year. Perhaps if she could show him that someone did care about him, then maybe he might open up and even enjoy the next twenty four hours without the need for excess of drink.

'Hi,' she said simply as she walked up to him. 'Um, you're going to have to remind me what you drink. I've only worked behind the bar a couple of times.' She tried to add a small laugh onto the end of her sentence, but failed as she saw the man's dark eyes rise and fall upon her. For a moment, Belle thought she had perhaps lain on the good cheer a little to thickly, but breathed a sigh of relief when the man pulled out a credit piece and asked for a hyper-vodka. 'Never really see you drink anything else. You must have stomach of steel or something. I tried one once and spent two days in bed.' She laughed to herself as she turned away from his to pour the drink. 'That was when I was young though, got a family to look after now so I can't really go silly, not even at this time of year. It's always yours truly who has to cook the dinner.' She was slightly disappointed as she turned to Jack with his drink to see him still with his head down and clearly not paying any attention to her ramblings. Belle didn't even have a chance to set the glass upon the table before it was taken out of her hands, drained of its liquid and slammed against the table.

'Again,' Jack muttered, dropping another credit onto the table. 'This time with less talk.' With a slightly shaking hand, Belle picked up the glass and filled it again, cursing herself when she felt tears begin to sting at her eyes. This was such a lonely figure that sat before her but all she could do was give him his drink and leave him alone like everyone else had done aboard this ship.

They say that Christmas is a time for miracles. Well, it was fair to say that Belle truly hoped and prayed for a miracle for this poor man. Question was, would it ever be answered?


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until Jack had consumed a further four hyper-vodkas that he realised that the young woman who had been serving him for most of the day was still hanging around him, very much like a new born child around its mother. Even though he had told her to leave him alone a few drinks ago, there she was still watching his every move. When she thought he was looking at her, she would quickly flick her big brown eyes up to the monitor playing an old Earth version of A Christmas Carol. The bar was relatively quiet for this time of day, but then what with it being Christmas Eve, people were probably spending their valuable time spending what little credits they had on presents and food. Contrary to popular belief, the SS Salvation was not just a moving homeless shelter, it was a rehabilitation centre where the inhabitants could learn to work again and gain confidence to return to wherever it was they originally came from.

There were some that stayed, some that couldn't return home and that was the category Belle had fallen into. She had been five years old when she had come aboard with her mother and brother and it was here that she had remained for the last twenty years. She had built her life up here, got married and had her children here. She couldn't think of a life outside of the ship's solid walls and she had seen her fair share of dejected and miserable souls, none more so than the lonely figure before her.

'You ever seen this?' She spoke before she could think and was quietly surprised when the man lifted his head to look at her. 'It's my favourite Earth film. I always have it on around this time of year.' She noticed how the figure shifted his gaze toward the screen and focused on the image of Tiny Tim as he smiled and laughed with his family. He could see Stephen in the little boy's eyes and Jack felt violently sick as he recalled the last images of his grandson, bloodied and fitting as he burned from the inside out. Suddenly the images were too much and Jack fell off his stool, the contents of his stomach burning his throat as they exited from his mouth and onto the floor of the bar. He could feel tears flowing down his face as the bile filled his mouth once again.

'For the God's sake,' the manager cried as he watched from afar. 'This is the last thing I need right now. Christmas Eve and I'm left mopping up a moron's sick.' Jack had no power within him to fight back against the words that were piercing through to his skill. His body had tightened so much that he barely felt the hand that was now stroking his back.

'Maltrash, just leave it. I'll clear it up, it's no problem.' Belle was by Jack's side, trying in vain to somehow help the poor man who had gone from a feared beast to a weak calf in a nanosecond. As Jack managed to straighten up, he closed his eyes to the dreadful beating in his head. He could feel a soft hand against his forehead, followed quickly by a damp cool cloth which provided little comfort to him. The last time he was looked after in such a manner was when he had been rescued after the Hub had been blown up. Even now, he could feel Ianto's hands in place of Belle's as the damp cloth moved across his face. For a split second, Jack lost himself in his memories and let himself whimper slightly at the departure of the cloth on his face.

'Hey, it's okay.' Belle's soft voice returned Jack to his current position as he opened his eyes and watched her dip the cloth into a bowl of cold water. 'You know, I've seen worse and from people who have drunken less.' The cold cloth was back against his skin and although it soothed the drumming in his head, how he wished this kind woman would leave him to his memories. 'Maltrash just hates working Christmas Eve. Think he'd rather be home with his partner, although that's an image I never want in my head.' She laughed more to herself and was surprised when she saw a small smile play across the man's face. Maybe there was a chance of reaching him somehow.

'Belle,' Maltrash called from his office. 'Get him cleared up and out of here. Might make closing time a little easier if he goes now.' Maltrash was all talk really, but if it came to a bar fight or an ill patron, it was always Belle who was at the front of the action.

'On to it,' she called back as she tried to get Jack to stand. 'Look, maybe you should get back to your quarters. Looks like we're going to close up early today, what with it being Christmas. Although it does mean we won't be open tomorrow. You need anything before you go?' Supporting him as he gained his balance, she was taken aback when he looked straight into her eyes. There was no denying that Belle was attracted to this man, he was a dark and mysterious character who shunned the world around him. Perhaps most women fell for that, hoping in some way to change these sorts of men, but the presence of the wedding ring on her finger reminded her that her days of window shopping were over. She was content with Fred, she really was. So why did this man appeal to her so much? 'Bottle of hyper-vodka?' She was broken by her thoughts as the man uttered the only other sentence he had spoken to her throughout the day. 'Can you just give me a bottle?'

'Maybe it's not such a good idea.' Belle tried not to flinch as Jack pulled his arm sharply out of her grasp and attempt to sit back down on his stool. 'Look, why don't you go and get some food and take an early night.' She could feel her heart beat faster in distress as the man tried to reach the bottle of hyper-vodka across the bar, almost pitifully as he appeared too tired to walk around the bar. 'Look, I know I'm being forward, but if you're not with anyone tomorrow, you're more than welcome to come to mine. Number 43, Level 20. I always cook too much, like I said you're more than welcome to come...'

'A bottle of hyper-vodka, please.' The last word spoken through gritted teeth and with such desperation, Belle felt she had no choice. Stepping around the bar, she unhooked the bottle and held it out to the man, who snatched it from her grasp within a second. Finally finding his feet, he pocketed the bottle in his greatcoat and staggered towards the exit.

'You not even going to give me a Christmas tip?' Belle called out, hoping to gain the attention of the man once again. 'I mean, I did just give you a whole bottle of "instant death." Least you could do is pay me for it.' She watched as Jack pulled a few credits out of his pocket and spread them across the bar. Belle took her chance and placed her hand on top of his. 'I'm Belle, by the way. Belle Silverstone.'

Jack prepared to step away from the woman when the device around his wrist suddenly sparked into life. He could feel it vibrate around his wrist and as he looked down, he watched the tendrils of blue light dance over the leather strap. He watched in interest for a few seconds before he started back when the device uttered a single word; _'Jack?' _It was almost impossible to clarify the voice but the sudden outburst from Jack's wrist strap caused him to hide his hand in his greatcoat and hopefully silence the damn thing.

'Jack, huh?' He snapped his head towards Belle when she uttered his name, a name he had not told anyone, not even the Captain who had taken him. 'Well, like I said, if you want to come over tomorrow, you're more than welcome.'

'Yeah.' Jack said plainly as he made his way out of the bar and onto the busy platform of Level 18, where one by one, the inhabitants of the ship parted before him to let the drunken stranger pass. All Jack could see was a spectacle of bright colours flash across his vision as brightly coloured decorations now hung from the ceiling and all manner of colourfully wrapped boxes were exchanged between others, all carrying the good tidings of te Christmas holiday. But all Jack could hear was the sound of his own name being repeated, growing stronger, louder and clearer with every step he took. _JACK._

It seemed like an eternity before he reached the door to his quarters but as he reached for the scanner to unlock the door, the sparks which had danced upon his wrist strap not several seconds before now shot onto the bleak metal door before him and contorted themselves into a pattern. It was a pattern Jack knew all too well, the pattern of Captain John Hart's face.


	3. Chapter 3

Captain John's face; a face Jack had touched, kissed and beaten with equal care and admiration, now stared out at him from the base metal of his door. It did not speak, it did not smile, but simply looked deep into his eyes and into his very soul. Then, as soon as it had appeared, it vanished into a thousand sparks into the darkness. Jack couldn't tell whether he had actually seen the face of his friend or whether he had finally began to hallucinate from the alcohol. Sadly, Jack knew it could not possibly be his first thought, for he knew there would be only one face he could possibly want to hallucinate. Shaking his head in the vain hope of dislodging the image from his mind, he placed his hand across the scanner and the door slid slowly open for him to step through before it closed behind him and sealed him away from the world.

Gripping the head of the bottle inside his coat pocket, he extracted the hyper-vodka and gulped down several shots, his throat burning and his head swimming as the alcohol seeped its way into his bloodstream. It wouldn't last long, it never did. Nevertheless, it had the desired effect for now and as the walls to his quarters began to spin, he felt his body aim helplessly for the small bed and was pleasantly surprised when he landed squarely in the middle. It would have been a perfect landing if it had not of been for the small leather-bound book that struck his face as he landed. The pain came more as a surprise than anything and Jack was able to concentrate long enough to swipe the offending item away from his face.

The book was not thrown across the room, however, but found itself being toyed by the immortal man who tried to focus on its delicate lettering. As his vision cleared, Jack was able to make out three distinct words; _A Christmas Carol. _Curiosity caught Jack by the throat and before he knew what he was doing, he opened up the beautifully preserved book and felt his very being shake in terror as he read the dedication. _To Jack- Now you'll know how to avoid becoming a Scrooge. Merry Christmas. Ianto. _

Jack screamed. It had been a long time since Jack had allowed his emotions and fears to erupt from his soul for a long time. The book was propelled across the room and landed unceremoniously in the corner, impressively without a scratch or torn page in sight. But Jack couldn't look at it, there was no way he could bring himself to ever touch the object again because he suddenly realised he had never had a book in the room. Not a single thing in the room was a personal item of Jack's; he wore everything that he needed and never left anything alone in his room. So where had the book come from? Jack hoped that it would soon disappear, like the hologram of John's face in his door, but the object remained slumped in the corner of his room. Of all the names in all the Universe why did it have to be Ianto's? The name of the only man who asked nothing but to be remembered after his death was there in front of him and it took all of Jack's will not rip the book to shreds.

'Jack, are you even listening?' The voice, John's voice was back once again and as Jack's wrist strap burst into life once again, Jack sank back into his small bed as large tendrils of blue energy sparked across the room to create the form of Captain John Hart. 'Look, I'm stabilising now, you must be getting something.'

Jack didn't want any of this. Why was this happening to him? Had he not suffered enough over these last how many years? He tried hopelessly to distinguish the figure by waving his wrist strap furiously, pushing buttons frantically and even slapping it for good measure but still the image remained.

'Do you really have to do that?' The hologram now seemed to be talking directly to him. This was no recorded message, it was actual contact. 'Took me long enough to fix the damn thing, I thought you would show a little more care.' The image huffed in annoyance but still stared directly at Jack, willing him to speak.

'John?'

'Finally, we have contact.' John would have laughed at the image of a downtrodden Jack in their early days, but John knew only too well what had lead his partner into such a state and when he spotted the bottle of hyper-vodka lying on the floor, he saw his chance to change the line of discussion. 'Maybe if you laid off that stuff long enough you would have noticed me sooner. I have had visual with you for three days, okay not great visual, but you could have had the courtesy to...'

'Was this Gwen's idea? You said you fixed this thing so she must have put you up to try and get me back. Like I told her, I've got nothing to come back for.' Jack spat his words out, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention as he tried to crawl away from the droning voice of his friend. Wrapping his coat tightly around him, ever careful of the loose button, all he wanted to do was to shut the world around him out and be left with his memories.

'You quite finished with your 'self pity' act? Newsflash, little Miss Cooper isn't the only one worried about you. Sure, go off and do whatever you have to do, but a simple message now and then wouldn't hurt. Oh, she had the kid by the way, bouncing baby girl. Not that you actually give a shit.'

'Another reason for me not to come back. Second I come back, I'll only take a mother away from a kid, maybe in more ways than one.'

'Look, if this is all you're gonna rattle on about then maybe your friend was right all along. Maybe this will be for the best.' Jack could see John begin to press various buttons on his wrist strap ad couldn't help but make an effort to sit up and look at John to see what he would do next.

'What are you talking about?'

'Like I said, Gwen isn't the only one interested in your mental health. Keep a sober head, Jackie boy; your three visitors might get pissed off if you don't listen.' He stood like a statue, his eyes burning deep into Jack's in the vain hope he would listen to him.

'What three visitors? Look if you're here just to annoy me then get lost. You don't understand and you never will. Why can't you all just leave me alone?'

'Expect the first one at midnight...'

'Are you listening to me, just leave me alone.'

'Expect the second at 1am...'

Jack frantically prodded and pushed every single button on his wrist strap, praying to any god that could hear him to give him at least this wish to stop the incessant voice of Hart as it grew louder in both volume and severity.

'The last one will come to you the next day at 12, or sometime there about. Time can be a fickle thing.' Suddenly, Jack's head snapped upwards as John lurched forward at him. They pressed almost nose to nose and for once in his life, Jack became slightly scared of Hart even in his hologram form. 'Listen to them Jack, you need to fix your path. If you don't, then let the Gods have mercy on the Universe.' And with that, the image blurred and dissolved in a shower of blue light leaving Jack once again alone in his room, shaken and disturbed.

Running his hands across his face he could feel a dampness on his face and felt disgusted at himself when he realised he had been crying. Anger boiled up inside him, his hands now clenched tightly into fists as the dejected book lying in the corner caught his eye. Hart must have sent it here, more salt in the wounds that would not and should never heal. Picking the bottle of hyper-vodka off the floor, he drank half of the contents in one before he felt a rush of dizziness consume him before he slumped unconscious on his bed, his last thought being as always of Ianto Jones.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just a quick chapter this time, more of a set up chapter for what is to come. Getting this bit out of the way, it will pave the way to the crux of the story. This should hopefully be completed before Christmas Eve with a new chapter everyday from now on. A part of me kind of prays for more snow so I stay housebound but sadly, I dont see that happenig.**

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Jack found himself being stirred by a sharp pain to his ribs, something that no hangover had ever given him before. For a while, he tried desperately to ignore it; he could feel the galloping in his head and wanted nothing more than close himself off from the world. Whatever force was trying to stir him, it was painfully succeeding. And then he remembered the words of Captain Hart- _expect the first at midnight._ He could not focus on the hands of his watch, but the sudden beeping of his wrist strap indicated to him that the time was definitely here and the rude prodding at his ribs was caused by his first visitor.

'If you're just going to ignore me...well, that's not an option. Get your arse up.' A shrill voice pierced through his skull. 'If I knew it was going to be this much hard work I would have stayed at that Chameleon orgy. Five faces for thirty credits, best rates in the Universe.' The voice of a young woman echoed through his ears; it sounded so familiar but Jack could not place it. Even the words were oddly similar and his curiosity got the better of him as he braved to open one of his eyes and focus on the petite figure in front of him

'Well I never.' The young woman uttered a name Jack had not heard since before his time with the Doctor, a name he himself had almost completely forgotten. 'It can't be you, surely. I was told some poor sap, not actually those words mind, needed a little look back at his glory days to remember the Christmas spirit and it ends up being you?' The figure came to life before his eyes. The blonde bob of hair upon her head flicked and moved as if there were some wind in the small room, but managed to retain its shape underneath a small white hat. Her slim figure was encased in a short and tight 20th Century American Navy Officer outfit, one that was most definitely meant for the costume shops to reveal much more flesh than would be allowed in the real Navy. Her pert breasts were accentuated by the cut and hold of the dress and the ensemble was completed by a pair of white thigh high boots which sheathed her long legs in tight plastic. There was only one woman who could ever pull off an outfit that well and it was a face he could never forget.

'Ignacia, or are you going by something else now?' Ignacia Tempest Calpurnica, looking almost exactly the same since the first day Jack met her at the Time Agency, stood striking and splendid as she was lit by a small light emitting from the bottom of the door. Jack attempted to sit up but the galloping in his head was making his movements extremely sluggish. Suddenly he felt a small pair of hands take him by the arm and drag him to his feet, steadying him as he lost his balance.

'I suppose I should ask you the same thing.' Subconsciously, she brushed down his long military coat and rested her hand over the loose button. 'Last time I saw you it was 25th Century Venetian Sniper uniforms that had your blood boiling.' Jack told her the name he had owned for the last two thousand years, give or take, only for Ignacia to laugh in his face. 'Dear me, you did blend yourself into the era. Thousands of miles away from the Earth and yet here you are, still dressed in its garb. Your body is here but your heart is still there.'

'Buried under six foot of earth.' The words were out of Jack's mouth before he even realised what he had said. He could spot the wicked twinkle in his old friend's eyes and in a fit of anger at himself, he gripped her tightly by her shoulders and drew him close to her. 'You don't know where my heart is. Hart's put you up to something, I don't know what, but if you think a few words in my ear are going to make me head back to Earth with my tail between my legs..'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Pushing Jack away from her, the smell of alcohol overpowering her delicate senses, Ignacia looked up at him with a strange expression. 'I haven't seen Hart since the Agency was disbanded. Little runt fled like an Ood in a panic when they shut us down, didn't want to get caught up in all the controversy. No, I have someone else to blame for my being here.' It was then that Jack noticed the scar which wrapped around her wrist, just below her wrist strap.

'The person who cut off your hand, perhaps?' Jack knew he had struck a nerve when she subconsciously ran her fingers over the delicate scars. She told him how she had been attacked for her Vortex Manipulator in the Pleasure Bar of some docking station a year ago. She had been sent to one of the chambers by a member of the Elite and had awaited his arrival, but was instead met with a troop of bandits who amputated her hand, dragged her from the chambers and left her for dead in a small alley.

'Look, this doesn't matter. I got my Manipulator back from some red headed woman, but she was the one who made me come here. If I don't do what she asks, it all gets taken away and I never get to wear gloves again. So, if you're done questioning me, we'll begin.' She bridged the gap she had made between herself and Jack and held in her hand a small gold coloured button. A button she had torn off Jack's coat when he had grabbed her. Jack took one look at the item and became incensed.

'Give it back.' He made to grab it from her but she closed her hands around the small metal object. He needed it back; his coat was the last thing that truly mattered to him and he had to keep it whole, no matter what the cost. 'Give it to me or I swear...'

'Relax, flyboy. I was only going to re-attach it.' Holding the button in place, she took out a small pen device and attached the item as if it had never fallen out of place. 'Right, are you ready?

'Ready for what?' Jack replied as Ignacia placed one of his hands on top of her wrist strap.

'Ready to visit the past.' And with that, the two of them vanished from the room, the SS Salvation and from the time Jack had resided in for the last several years.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the lack of updates last night- got snowed in at a friends last night and by the time I finally managed to get home it was straight to bed to get up a few hours later for work. But there we are, can't be helped :)**

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For a brief moment, a fresh wave of nausea passed over Jack. It had been a long time since he had used this method of travel and this recent trip reminded him why he didn't use his own Manipulator, regardless whether it was in working condition or not. He stumbled forward and out of Ignacia's grasp, tumbling over his own feet and landing in an undignified manner onto the soft sand below him. It took him all of two seconds to sense where he was, the one place that he had ever truly called home. Bringing his head sharply up, a single tear escaped from his eye as he looked upon the settlement he grew up in, lived in and eventually lost all that he held dear. Boeshane Peninsular.

All his childhood memories came flooding back to him as he gazed adoringly up at the magnificent towers and colony buildings. Even after all these years away, he still was convinced that he could walk through the settlement and to his front door blindfolded. Suddenly he became aware of the sound of running footsteps behind him and for a second he was rigid with fear. Slowly, he turned his head and watched as a horde of children, all crying out and cheering, headed straight towards them. Jack could only watch in disbelief as Ignacia became suddenly active and waved manically at the excited children heading their way.

'You stupid bitch.' Jack grabbed her by the wrist, desperately trying to drag her behind a small bush to keep out of sight. 'We can't let them see us. It could create a hole in the Universe large enough to destroy us all.' All that Ignacia could do was look up at him and give a sad sigh.

'Oh, you were always one for hyperbole, weren't you?' Ignacia shook her head and focused Jack's attention on the button she had reattached earlier. 'Bio-damper. Minute one, picked it up in the 59th century, remarkable time for technology. No one can see us; think of them as shadows of the past. Placed it behind your button when you were ranting about being left alone. You know you shouldn't keep your eyes off me for too long.' Smiling up at him with a lecherous grin, she patted her own bio-damper which was located on the button closest to her breasts. Her hand lingered there for perhaps a second longer than necessary, the glint in her eye all too obvious to Jack who instantly turned to watch a group of children run across the sand towards the settlement and to their homes for the Christmas period.

'Brother,' a little shrill voice came from the entrance to the settlement, a young boy with a mop of curly brown hair was trying desperately to fight his way through the crowd coming straight at him. The little boy had enough fight within him to withstand even the hardest push, he had his sights set on his brother and there was no force in the Universe that would prevent him getting to him. The children had now thinned out, leaving behind a couple bringing up the rear and in particular one boy who was helping one of his friends who had a his leg in a splinter. Jack stood aghast as he recognised the injured boy as no other but himself.

'Gray!' When the young Jack caught sight of his brother, he let go of his aid's hand and hobbled the rest of the way to embrace his little brother. 'Merry Christmas. Where are mum and dad?' He rested his hand on Gray's shoulder as they slowly made their way back home.

'Getting the holo-tree ready. Dad says you and me can pick the colours this year. Can we have orange?' He looked up into his brother's eyes with a look that never failed to win Jack over.

'When was that ever a Christmas colour?' The older Jack laughed to himself as a memory of an orange Christmas came flooding back to him. All the different shades of orange imaginable had lined walls, ceilings and windows that Christmas but the look on his brother's face was one Jack would cherish for the rest of his immortal life.

'Now. Please can we have orange?'

'Whatever you like. Aren't you going to ask me what I did to my leg?' The young Jack ruffled his brother's hair, only to be met with an annoyed grunt.

'Later, we go decorate the house now.' And with that, Gray pulled his brother, albeit slowly, towards their house and out of sight of Jack and Ignacia. How much Jack wanted to follow, how he wanted to see his mum and dad again even for just a moment. He wanted to remember the good times he had had with Gray and perhaps help to ease the scars his young brother had made when he came back. However, his thoughts were rudely interrupted when Ignacia's Manipulator beeped several times.

'Time to go.' She took hold of Jack's hand, trying to steer him away from the happy scenes he longed to see once again, but alas it was not to be.

'I want to stay. Just a little longer.'

'Look, I've been told you've got a big past and I don't really want to spend all of the Christmas period watching you get your first hover train set.' Settling his hand over her wrist strap, she could not help but feel a tinge of sadness for her former work colleague. She stroked the knuckles of Jack's hand in a reassuring manner before her Manipulator activated and took them to their next destination.

Jumping from the 51st century to the 20th century in one jump was a particularly large one for both of them. Although Jack had travelled a further time distance before, he could not dismiss the pain that was striking up in his head. Ignacia, to his amusement, seemed also to be suffering from the aftershock of their trip. Raising a hand to her lips, she closed her eyes for a second before drawing in a large breath of air.

'Where are we now, then?' Jack regained his composure and began to walk away from Ignacia to look around his new surroundings. They were standing on a suburban street, the road name was nowhere in sight but Jack could feel in the pit of his stomach that he knew this place.

'1980, Christmas Eve of course. Oh Gods, we're only at the beginning of the 80's. No yuppies to rough up yet. Bit of a shame, I would have liked a bit of fun for myself.'

Jack had stopped in front of a plain black door. No wreath or Christmas lights adorned the building, the house seemed void of any festive cheer and Jack soon realised why and why this house in particular was so important. It was the house of Lucia Moretti and his daughter, Melissa. Jack was lost in his own world and headed straight for the door, much to the cries of Ignacia, and prepared to step right through it when his face met solid wood and he cried out in pain as he felt his nose for any damage.

'They're not actual shadows of the past, idiot. It's actually here, we can't just step through it.' She stepped around him and quietly picked the lock, opening the door slowly and waved Jack into the house. Quietly closing the door, the pair of them became aware of raised voices coming from the kitchen as Jack spotted a few suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. Jack remembered this day, alright, it was the day he had lost his daughter.

'Don't be stupid, Lucia.' Jack heard his own voice echoing from the kitchen. 'You can't just leave on Christmas Eve. What will Greg say? You can't just leave Torchwood and you know it.'

'I left Torchwood the second you got me pregnant.' The soft and sensual voice Jack had stored of Lucia's in his memory was blown away by this harsh and abrasive voice which was followed by a shrill cry of a young child. 'My father said we could stay with him, at least over the holidays.'

'That still doesn't explain why you're going.' Jack had stayed in the hallway, unwilling to watch himself shout at mother of the only daughter he had fathered on this planet. 'Leave Torchwood, I don't care, but please don't take Melissa with you.'

'She doesn't belong to you. You're her father in biological terms only; I'll make sure of that.' Lucia picked up her crying daughter and headed out of the kitchen, Jack quickly following her, grabbing her by the arm. 'Get off of me, or so help me I'll make sure you will never set eyes on her again.' They locked gazes for a while before Jack let go of Lucia's arm and stormed out of the house, future Jack and Ignacia following quick behind.

'Go back, you idiot.' Jack shouted up the road at his past self as he tried to dislodge the bio-damper. Jack let out an impatient growl and prepared himself to run after his past self before he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

'Get a grip, Jack. The Manipulator is ready to go to the next stop. We have to go...'

'No.' A simple reply that emitted from Jack's lips. He could feel a cold shiver of fear and anticipation cross his very soul. He knew what stop would be next, somehow he knew what the next stop would be and although he had wished so hard these last few years to revisit those times once again, now faced with the possibility, he was terrified.

'Something tells me this next one is going to be a bitch. But they wouldn't want you to see it unless they knew it would help.'

'They? Why won't any of you tell me who really sent you all.' Jack raised his hand to point at his old friend and it was an opportunity for Ignacia to grab hold of his hand, place it on her strap and send them both into a past which she knew would be the hardest yet.


End file.
